Full-Time Wizard: Starting with Harvesting Wheat

"Hiss—" By chance, Roy found the warden's diary at the bottom of the cabinet.

He brushed away the mold on the title page, revealing chaotic handwriting on the yellowed paper:

"On March 28, Lord Phaethon was imprisoned. Although he repeatedly instructed that no special treatment was needed, we spontaneously lined up on both sides of the prison gate to offer our blessings for his imprisonment. A grand banquet was held in Phaethon's prison, lasting from dusk until late at night, to celebrate this memorable moment together."

Roy: ...

"On April 1st, while Lord Phaethon was having a meal, he punched a clueless prisoner to the ground. What bad luck! Didn't he know whose territory he was, daring to cause trouble in front of the Lord? I've already secretly dragged that fool to the execution ground and executed him. But... when Lord Phaethon threw his punch, the taut curve of his muscles, the bulging veins under his sleeves, that clean and decisive posture... Damn it, even now, lying in bed with my eyes closed, that moment keeps replaying in my mind."

Roy: ???

"April 3rd. Let me state upfront that I am not infatuated with beauty. But I don't know when it started, observing Lord Phaethon's every word and action has become an indispensable and paramount part of my daily life. Ah, his athletic figure, his body as perfect as a sculpture carved by the hands of the sun god himself, every gesture he makes makes my soul tremble!"

Snapped!

Roy closed his diary.

He finally understood why this diary had been buried at the bottom of the cabinet; the entire book was a fanatic's worship of his idol, almost to the point of being "grotesque."

Who in their right mind would write these things in their diary?

Wait, who keeps a diary if they're a decent person?

He patiently tossed the diary aside and instead rummaged through the scattered pages at the bottom of the cabinet, trying to find some useful information.

This time I glanced at the documents piled on top of all the pages.

354 3 Month 22 Day.

0 people answered correctly, 0 people died.

354 6 Month 30 Day.

回答正确0人，死亡2人。208室1号杀死4号后自杀。

Is this a daily summary of things happening in prison?

Similar to the income and expenditure report displayed at the end of each day in management games.

Roy stroked the pages, wondering: Could it be that answering correctly means passing the test and being able to get out of prison?

but……

He quickly flipped through the pages, skimming over the 1% of correct answers for a particular day—that must have been the day Phaethon was released from prison. After that, the number of correct answers was 0 each day, while the number of deaths fluctuated until the very end.

An unprecedentedly large number appeared before our eyes.

The answer is correct; 268 people answered correctly.

This should be the total number of prisoners that this prison has ever held; even if there are discrepancies, they shouldn't be too much.

It was obvious that the answer to the question had been leaked, which is why almost everyone answered correctly and left the prison.

Could it be that the Phaethon prison was completely abandoned because all the prisoners had served their sentences and been released?

After reading the diary, Roy continued searching and finally found a book in the cabinet that described the prison facilities.

"The doors of each cell are made of thickened stainless steel. The solitary confinement cells, specially prepared for those who violate the prison rules, have an outer layer of one-inch-thick solid cast steel shell and an inner layer of dense and seamless lead, making them indestructible and extremely soundproof."

In addition, the list also records the canteen's utensils. Pots, bowls, ladles and basins are all made of different metals and alloys. Most of them are materials commonly found in Blackwater Collar, but there are also a few rare materials that are unique to this plane.

Moreover, 80 percent of the materials used in the construction of these facilities will not be supernatural metals, which means that Roy has the opportunity to perform metal fusion.

He immediately rummaged through the room and found a canvas bag, grabbed some books, and wandered around the abandoned prison. Any metal objects he saw that he had never seen before were stuffed into the bag.

"Unfortunately, this door can't be removed." Roy looked at the door of 502 with regret and knocked on it again.

Each door has a unique keypad, so even the jailers would struggle to use it if someone had a poor memory.

After knocking on the door at the right rhythm, Roy waited two seconds, and the third door he saw that day opened.

Room 502 wasn't big; it was a four-person dorm room. The walls were covered with writing, and the handwriting was inconsistent.

These are the answers written by countless prisoners.

Roy couldn't help but laugh when he talked about it.

The so-called test that awaits you after entering this prison is actually just solving a problem.

That's right, there was only one question, and it came from the supreme alchemist, Phaethon.

The question is: Iron rusts when it is left in the air, so what happens to incandescent gold when it is left in the air?

None of the prisoners knew what Flame Gold was, but Phaethon built a library in the prison where the prisoners could use their free time to look up information. They had one chance a day to answer questions with a pen, and as long as they wrote on the wall, the system could recognize the answers.

Thus began their long process of "searching – writing answers – searching".

It's worth mentioning that, since there was no trace of Flamefire Gold in the records, the desperate prisoners had to find another way, trying to piece together the answer by applying the properties of known metals. Therefore, the walls were covered with—

"If the ambient temperature exceeds 20 degrees Celsius, it will melt; if the temperature is below 20 degrees Celsius, its properties will not change significantly."

"It will melt directly under high temperatures."

"It will explode if it comes into contact with an open flame or an impact."

"It is extremely susceptible to corrosion by strong acids and alkalis."

"After getting damp, the surface will develop mottled rust marks."

"Prolonged exposure to air will cause it to gradually weather and peel off."

Answers like these.

The prisoners thought that the properties of incandescent gold must match those of a certain metal, and that Phaethon's question must involve specialized knowledge.

However, it is getting further and further away from the correct answer.

The final answer is actually, it will be stolen.

A poorly written, manipulative riddle.

Roy had already imagined the scene of them yelling "WCNM" after they found out the correct answer.

While we cannot rule out the possibility that some people might laugh themselves to death.

"You..." Just as Roy was flying away, the woman in the room groggily got out of bed and stared at him blankly.

"Hello." Roy waved to her.

Because of the need to produce Uruk ivory, the food provided by Grey was not bad, and Teresa's development was relatively complete. However, due to prolonged lack of sun exposure, her skin was horribly pale.

It looks like it might bleed if you're not careful.

Teresa's rusty mind began to function again after a long absence.

He stared blankly at the tin man in front of him.

Her eyes were exactly like those of the upper elementary school students Roy had seen.

They were all so naive, and a little foolish.

Roy slowly walked towards Teresa, whose gaze shifted from chaotic to tense, as she used her hands to propel her body backward on the bed.

This is not only the sense of oppression a child feels when she sees fully armed adults, but also her distrust of humans due to the trauma she has endured.

The steel-forged body slowly stepped forward, and finally, Roy took off his helmet, revealing a slightly immature face.

In psychology, children aged 4-10 are the least likely to arouse people's vigilance, followed by teenagers aged 10-15.

In any case, it's better than a cold helmet to melt away any sense of unease.

Theresa's wary expression faltered for a moment, then a hint of doubt flashed in her eyes. The mismatch between Roy's physique and face made her feel a little uneasy.

But in that instant, her body relaxed, clearly entering a brief state of relaxation.

Taking advantage of this moment, Roy took out some dry rations from the cloth bag he was carrying.

Multi-colored dried sweet potatoes!

sweet!

The pure, flawless cherry blossom color exudes a subtle, sweet fragrance.

"Want some?"

Theresa's gaze froze on the piece of dried potato for a full three seconds, then her Adam's apple bobbed.

Suddenly and resolutely, he turned his head to the side!

Do not eat!

Roy smiled, took a bite, then broke off one half and handed the other half to her.

Hunger struck like a tidal wave.

As the dried sweet potato drifted further and further away, panic welled up in Teresa's eyes.

"Ugh!" She bit her lip, her fingertips slowly moving closer.

It looked like it was struggling with something.

"What are you doing?"

Roy frowned and shoved the dried sweet potato into her hand.